Mummy's Mask (IC)

[Farmerbink]

Eager to start the day, and easily having slept off the previous evening's amusement, Grekka rises well before sunrise. She is waiting at the necropolis gates as her companions arrive. "Aren't you excited?!" she yells, as they gather. Unable to contain herself, she spends most of the morning doing pushups and bouncing about on the balls of her feet as the priests drag on with their final preparations. As the doors part ceremoniously, Grekka's grin widens further, only to be replaced by a scowl as still more delays impede them.

Finally, they step past the last priest and into the necropolis. Her usually casual demeanor evaporates into the golden rays of the early morning sun. She fixates on a small, oft-ransacked hut. As they near it, she quickly says, "give me just a moment. Alone, please." and walks inside it. After less than a minute, she walks back out, into the daylight. Her eyes are red, but her expression deliberate. She forces a smile. "Let's go meet Akhentepi, shall we?"

************************************************** *

Grekka steps forward, inspecting the door closely. She reaches into her backpack, and seems to note the scrapings indicative of crowbar use for the first time. With evident distaste, she says: "Well, I suppose that's unlikely to work better for us than it did for them..." She gently replaces the half-way removed crowbar back into her pack. Hefting her morningstar meaningfully, she turns to her companions. "Any better ideas, or shall I make us a door?"

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm assuming you've already rolled perception checks, and that we don't need to?
In case I'm mistaken: (1d20+7)[12]

[DarkOne-Rob]

The opening of the Necropolis

Vershab watches the scene unfold impassively, his face betraying no emotion in response to the massive event.

What do you make of it?

"Any better ideas, or shall I make us a door?"

The Rules

Every Slave’s Hut Is a Memorial
Every structure within the Necropolis is a testament to the people who lived and died in the city. Explorers must not desecrate or vandalize standing structures and tombs, but preserve them as the memorials they were intended to be. Some structures may be trapped or decrepit, but willful and unnecessary destruction will not be tolerated.

"We need to do our best to open the doors without doing any more damage than is required - the rules of the Necropolis say so," Vershab says blandly. "None of the tombs will be easy to enter, but with a combination of leverage and force we should be able to get the doors open without resorting to breaking down the door. Besides, the walls could be several feet thick, it would take either powerful magic or many weeks of excavation."

He then approaches the entrance and looks carefully at the various seams in the stone walls. He then starts digging through the accumulated sand by hand near the walls to get a better look at any part of the stone covered by the wind and weather.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Perception (1d20+5)[15] w/ Low Light Vision (if it matters) to find anything that might provide a clue how to enter the tomb. Assuming he find nothing new he digs along the edge to try and unearth anything that might provide new clues.

Ideally I am looking for any runes, hieroglyphics, or carvings that might suggest a magical method to open the door to which I can apply some magical knowledge or use magic device skill checks...

[Gwynfrid]

Pushing enough of the sand away to see a portion of ground by the bottom of the door takes a few minutes of effort, and reveals it is a perfectly normal, if very large, stone door. Vershab assesses that a couple of hours of labour would be necessary to remove the sand from the door's path; after that, opening it would simply be a matter of putting strength and crowbar together.

[Farmerbink]

Grekka sighs heavily, as she returns the morningstar to its loop at her side. "It was a joke, people. Mostly. Sheesh."

Vershab assesses that a couple of hours of labour would be necessary to remove the sand from the door's path;

She looks around the group expectantly. "It's not gonna clear itself out of the way. Better get to it!"

She bundles her weapons to protect them somewhat from the sand, and lays them nearby. On hands and knees, she burrows into the sand, kicking and scraping it aside. After a few moments, she looks at her meager progress. "Ugh. If I'd have known we were gonna be digging, I'd have brought a shovel! Hmmmm...." She retrieves her wooden shield from the bundle, and goes about using it as an improvised scoop to help move the sand more quickly. "Here, Lehasti! Help me with this- grab the other end, no no, like this...." After a few moments, the two muscular women are excavating sand much more quickly, as well as building up a hearty sweat.

[Gwynfrid]

It takes well over two hours, with improvised tools, and a great deal of sweat and labor under the slowly rising, punishing Osiriani sun to finally move the sand accumulation of many years to the side, before the four companions face the door. Grekka sighs, but she isn't about to get discouraged yet. Picking up her crowbar, and with a great deal of heaving and pushing and pulling, she manages to entice the massive door ajar on just her second attempt. After that, multiple hands can grab the door and pull it open with relative ease. Not a moment too soon, as the valiant Relic Knights step in warily, grateful for the shade offered to them courtesy of a man who passed away more than twenty centuries ago.

The entrance is into a rectangular room, empty save for some engravings and fixtures upon the walls, and an immense stone wheel against the south wall. The air is stale, and a layer of dust and sand covers the floor, lying in a thicker layer to the south. All four walls bear sunk-relief engravings and hieroglyphs, while small stone faces are affixed to the walls at about shoulder height in each corner. The stone wheel to the south is engraved with a large spiral and is set in stone tracks in the floor and ceiling.

The hieroglyphs on the walls are Ancient Osiriani, not a difficulty for the young scholar Vershab. Along with the engravings, they describe the life of the tomb’s enshrined occupant, Akhentepi, a celebrated military commander who presided over the troops garrisoned in Wati. They indicate that the deceased was born in 2416 AR and died in 2488 AR. The hieroglyphs warn,

“Akhentepi’s tomb is well defended, and those who defile it tempt the wrath of the gods.

“The only thing the Lady of Graves despises more than the grave robber is the unsuccessful grave robber.
Turn back while you can.”

The spiral on the stone wheel, as all know, is the symbol of Pharasma, and two of the carved faces in the room’s corners depict the Lady in her role as the reaper of the dead. The other two faces are less familiar: Vershab believes they depict a deity of some sort, but can't recall which one exactly. Closer examination also reveals the faces to be decorative torch holders, such that when torches are placed within them, a corona of flame surrounds the deities’ heads.

The stone wheel against the south wall is 10 feet in diameter and 6 inches wide, and its weight is enormous. However, by combining their strength, the two muscular women Knights manage to roll it to the side, revealing a 5-foot wide opening. From there, the group enters a second, square room, this one starkly devoid of any markings or adornment. In the center of the chamber’s floor, a square shaft drops straight down into darkness. A faint musty odor rises from the pit. A single piton has been hammered into the stone floor by the northeast corner of the pit, and a dusty length of rope dangles from the piton into the darkness of the shaft.

Spoiler

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North is at the top of the image. From the second room onwards, the group will require a source of lighting as not much of the outside light reaches inside.

[CleverDragon]

Calathon acts similar to Grekka in that he is excited beyond belief. He cannot believe that he gets to witness the opening of the Necropolis in his lifetime, let alone be one of the lucky holders of the permit to access it! He paces back and forth before the doors are finally opened, occasionally muttering various historical references and guesses as to whom Akhentepi might be.

However, when the crowd dynamics change as the doors are about to be opened, he's intensely focused on the buildings beyond. He doesn't seem to mind waiting for the ineffective beaurocracy to work out who gets to access and when. Instead, as he is about a head taller than most, he gazes off into the "dead city" to take in the sights of the architecture, the layout of the streets (as best he can) and generally everything he can possibly take in.

When he and the rest of the Relic Knights finally get to enter, he absently provides any identification necessary to access the necropolis, his gaze never leaving the buildings around him. "Amazing..." he says breathlessly. As they stroll down the streets, he comments on this or that architecture, this or that site that he might know, and anything that strikes his fancy.

When they finally get to their site, he has a massively wide grin on his face as he reads the word AKHENTEPI. "Here we are..." He runs his fingers along the stone walls gingerly, almost lovingly.

As they reach the tomb, she whistles at the structure's comparative size and workmanship. Seeing no obvious method of entry, she gestures to Calathon. What do you make of it?

"Hmmm, I'd say it's definitely from before the Plague of Madness. This building is quite old...perhaps two thousand or more years. It's stood up to the test of time quite well I'd say!" He pats the stone wall admiringly. He then casts his eyes on the sand piled up in front of the door and the seams of the door itself. "And it looks like someone tried to get in here once upon a time. Though it's been quite a while. Multiple years..." he wades into the sand a little bit and runs his fingernails along the mortared seams. "It'll take a little bit of work, but as Vershab mentioned, it'll just take applying no small amount of leverage to open the doors. Well, first after chipping this away a bit..." he takes the crowbar points and runs it along the lines of the doors first, getting rid of as much as he can before they begin to clear away the sand.

He steps out of the way for Grekka and Lehasti to finish their efforts, helping where he can. Though, he has a bit of a wry smile on his face as he thinks, Now here's a switch. The women are the strong ones here. He looks over at Vershab as the pair are hard at work. "Ready to see if there are any undead guardians? Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if there are plenty of traps along the way too," he positively beams, "It's so exciting!" Unable to wait any longer, he puts his back into the sand removal efforts as well, quickly starting to sweat along with the religious women.

When the task is finished and the sand is largely moved out of the way, he gets into position to help with the opening of the door. "Now, when this door opens, it might be trapped somewhere on the inside, so brace yourself just in case. Also, I don't know how stale the air is, so I might suggest holding one's breath," he says with his characteristic lisp. When they nod their assent in understanding, he lets them count down when to shove at the crowbar and/or to grip at the door.

Spoiler: OOC

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Assist Strength check vs DC 10 to aid someone else (Grekka or Lehasti) to give +2 to the check:
(1d20+1)[20]
Also: NINJA'D! lol

[CleverDragon]

When the door finally opens, he congratulates everyone quietly and then lets out a low whistle. He reads the ancient Osiriani alongside Vershab, translating it aloud for Grekka and Lehasti. "...is the unsuccessful grave robber. Turn back while you can."

He turns to everyone else with a strange sort of smile. "Well, somehow I don't think we're going to obey this particular warning. Especially since we have the priestess of Pharasma's blessing and all!" At which point, he begins jotting notes and drawings in his journal.

When the stone slab is moved to the side, he notes the pit in the floor, followed immediately by a cold sweat. Torches he thinks with no small amount of dread. Before any of the others can even start to get out their own torches, he pulls out one of his sunrods and ignites it. "I, uh...I can handle the light," he nervously smiles. "So...um...If you want, I can go first and check for any mechanical defenses they may have set up. That warning makes me think there may certainly be some!" He sweeps the sunrod slowly in front of him, checking the rim of the hole, the piton and rope, and the space below for signs of traps and an indication of how old the rope and piton are.

Spoiler: OOC

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Survival = (1d20+6)[22]
Perception = (1d20+8)[9]

[Gwynfrid]

The shaft is square, ten feet to the side. It is certainly rather deep, as Calaton can't see the bottom even as he extends his hand with the lit sunrod over the hole. The piton is deeply embedded into the stone and fairly strong, with only a faint trace of surface rust. On the other hand, the rope must be rather old - as soon as the scarred elf touches it, it frays and crumbles to tiny pieces of rotten fiber.

[JWallyR]

Seeming somehow energized by the menial exertions required to remove the sand, Lehasti returns her pack and gear to their places about her armored frame and makes to enter the tomb, skin still glistening from the few rays of sun that penetrate the gloom.

"Well, somehow I don't think we're going to obey this particular warning. Especially since we have the priestess of Pharasma's blessing and all!"

Lehasti gives the man a grin. Indeed, with the Lady's consent and the Dawnflower's light, I think we shall have little to fear!

Whistling as the rope crumbles into dust, Lehasti retrieves a length of hemp rope from her pack, and knots it around the piton. After eyeing Calathon's slender frame, she says, Perhaps I should make a crude harness and lower you down... Unless you're comfortable making the climb yourself? I'll be sure to pull you back at the first sound, or once I run out of rope.

[Farmerbink]

Lehasti retrieves a length of hemp rope from her pack, and knots it around the piton. After eyeing Calathon's slender frame, she says, Perhaps I should make a crude harness and lower you down... Unless you're comfortable making the climb yourself? I'll be sure to pull you back at the first sound, or once I run out of rope.

Grekka smirks from her position to the side. Perhaps I should go first. Using a rope, I'm confident I can make the climb, and I think I'll feel less.... exposed than Calathon would, in that hole by myself. Furthermore, I can see without your silly little sticks, so I won't be as likely to give away my presence to possible... uh... guardians.

Barring objections, she uses the rope to brace against the wall and slowly, carefully climbs down the shaft.

[DarkOne-Rob]

After his godfather has entered the second chamber Vershab returns to the first and carefully lights four torches and places them in the four corners of the room using the decorative torch holders built into the stone walls. He then takes several minutes to closely inspect the large stone door from the inside to confirm that it can be easily opened from the inside before calling to the others, "Someone help me close this door again. There is no purpose to letting in the desert heat or announcing we are here to any wandering threats."

Afterwards he returns to the second chamber and begins carefully unloading his backpack. "Um, here, take this," he calls to Grekka, handing her a large folded collection of wooden pieces folded carefully together (a 10-ft folding ladder). "Place it at the bottom so we can take advantage of a bit less rope-climbing." He then unloads a folding plank, and places his backpack in the corner with his other tools. Carrying only his weapons and necessary tools he returns to the pit's edge and watches the others prepare to descend.

[Gwynfrid]

Vershab lits the torches and attempts to close the door behind him, but there are no handles on the inside, forcing him to grab the outside of the door to move it. Evidently, the tomb was meant to be closed from the outside once and for all. The pale arcanist has to leave the heavy stone slab ajar, so he doesn't crush his own hand between the two doors.

Grekka begins the arduous climb down the shaft. She immediately notices that the stone is very well adjusted and smooth, and she's grateful for the strong rope securing her descent. Still, with her armor and pack, the effort is strenuous. At one point, her foot loses purchase, and it's all she can do to cling to the rope desperately, until she can regain stability and move down again.

After half a minute of this exercise, she reaches the end of the rope and can go no further. With her night vision however, she can see that the bottom isn't much lower down, perhaps a dozen more feet or so.

[Farmerbink]

Afterwards he begins carefully unloading his backpack. "Um, here, take this."

Grekka faces the arcanist with a raised eyebrow. Right... She places the folding ladder in the now overstuffed backpack, shaking her head slightly.

She reaches the end of the rope and can go no further. With her night vision however, she can see that the bottom isn't much lower down, perhaps a dozen more feet or so.

Oh, blast it all! From her awkward perch, Grekka calls upwards: Couldnt have brought a longer rope, eh? Hold tight, I'm gonna try something stupid!

Spoiler: crunch

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(Hopefully not literally)
(1d20+4)[16] acrobatics vs dc 15 to ignore first 10 feet of a fall.
(1d6)[4] damage if I fail.
EDIT: boosh!

From her new position on the floor, she removes the folding ladder from her pack and sets it up under the rope. All right! Slow and steady down the rope! She smiles to herself, before turning her full attention to her new surroundings.

Spoiler: ooc

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If something is immediately threatening, please disregard that. Also, I'll check the floor and walls for traps before setting up the ladder.

[Gwynfrid]

The reckless half-orc tomb explorer fearlessly lets go of the rope, and in spite of her unwieldy gear, she still manages to land on her feet, and soften the shock of the hard stone floor.

Looking around, she finds herself in a square room, featuring an ornate pair of stone doors and a crumpled humanoid body, lying just in front of them. Right in the center of the 10-plus-foot-high ceiling is the opening Grekka came through, leading straight up into darkness, but with the pinpoint light of Calathon's sunrod shining all the way above.

Unfolding Vershab's ladder is enough to confirm her first impression: Indeed, the ceiling is just half a foot too high. Without a wall to brace the ladder against, the contraption is useless.

Spoiler

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Methinks the builders of 2000 years ago knew that all standard-issue poles, ladders etc are exactly 10 feet long.

[Farmerbink]

Grekka surveys the room where she finds herself more closely. "Well, I know who hammered in that piton... for all the good it does." she calls upwards. The rope is about 10 feet too short to reach the floor, I had to drop to get down here, but it appears that there's nothing- err, nothing living that might pose a threat immediately. Do you have any more rope? If you can tie another length at the bottom, it would help you get to the floor safely. Otherwise, this may be awkward... and or painful.

She turns her attention to the crumpled figure on the floor. Drawing her morningstar, she nudges the body a few times with her boot.

Spoiler: If it doesn't react

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After assuring herself that the poor bastard is just dead, she makes the effort of carefully examining his belongings, looking for something else that might be useful for navigating this shaft.

[Gwynfrid]

Sniffing the air, Grekka notices a hint of decay hanging in the confined environment of the room. A dried stain mars the stone floor under the body. Looking at the doors, she also sees the doors are carved wtih the mirrored images of a warrior, in side profile, facing inward. The figure is depicted wearing padded armor, with a scarab-shaped shield on the arm facing the viewer, and a raised khopesh held aloft in the other.

The body in front of the doors is mostly skeletal, with a thin layer of desiccated tissue. Both of the legs are broken. The corpse’s gear has suffered from rot and rust for a very long time, and is mostly unusable, though Grekka's thorough search yields a couple of metal pitons and a hammer in decent condition, as well as two vials of alchemist’s fire that have remained miraculously unbroken.

[Farmerbink]

Grekka places the two vials of alchemist's fire in her belt pouch and holds the two pitons in her hand, an expression of irritated thoughtfulness across her features.

Spoiler: Face

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Well, that doesn't help, much. Poor guy probably thought he was prepared, too. She returns her focus to the rope, dangling several feet above the floor of the chamber.

Spoiler: Pending

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Alright, I'm going to try something else stupid. Lehasti, come on down. I may need your help to do this right. Leave as much heavy stuff as you can up top!

From the bottom of the shaft, Grekka watches as Lehasti carefully lowers herself. As she approaches the end of the rope, she calls up to the woman. Hold there, just a moment. I think I can get you down here, safely.

Lifting the unfolded ladder, she locks her elbows under her chin, on the first rung, and braces herself with a wide spread stance. She places the ladder against the inside of the shaft, just a few feet below the bottom of the rope. I think I can hold it, hurry!

Spoiler: OOC

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Yes, I'm expecting to hold the weight of Lehasti and most of her gear. 18 str gives a lift over head of 300. Counting all of Lehasti's gear, she weighs about 270. That said, the bit about being used as a ladder for the last 5-ish feet may be problematic/unpleasant. I'm hopeful that it's not objectively painful.

BTW, my mental image is this:

Spoiler: stupidity

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mixed with this:

I figure the "lift off the ground" stat is more like a deadlift, which tends to be slightly less than a squat, in terms of weight lifting ability. If you want a check other than STR, let me know: I'm still not completely clear how strength checks work in a scenario like this, but I don't see any other way (unless there's more rope up top) for someone to get down without pain. If we can get the rope to the bottom of the shaft, I'll do

Spoiler: this

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instead. Any questions?
(1d20+4)[10] strength check

[DarkOne-Rob]

After seeing that none of the torches seem to cause anything magical or interesting Vershab takes them down and extinguishes them. As Grekka calls up from below he replies, "You aren't going to try something foolish, are you? If the rope doesn't reach the bottom we should use more rope..."

[Farmerbink]

"You aren't going to try something foolish, are you? If the rope doesn't reach the bottom we should use more rope..."

Grekka calls back up the shaft, "Of course we should. That's why I suggested it first! Do you have more rope? If not, we're doing something foolish!" Her grin is clearly audible in her tone, as she envisions her plan.

[DarkOne-Rob]

"Who else brought rope?" asks Vershab. "Grekka used Lehasti's, did she bring some of her own too?"

[Farmerbink]

"Who else brought rope?" asks Vershab. "Grekka used Lehasti's, did she bring some of her own too?"

"Of course I did!" comes the hoarse cry from the bottom of the shaft. "I don't see how you expect me to get it back to you, though! Just come on down, Lehasti!"

[CleverDragon]

Calathon flinches at the sound of the flames alighting in the room behind him. He wheels around at the sound of the slight "whooomph" of the flames as they catch on the ancient pitch and wood of the torch. He eyes them worriedly and then throws a glance at Vershab, but says nothing. He turns back around and finds Grekka already climbing down the pit. "But..." he sighs and waits for her to get below.

As the conversations happen between Grekka and Vershab, he smirks. He mutters softly so that only Vershab can hear, "Well, if she hadn't rushed down, we might've been able to pool together our resources a bit more....effectively." He sighs and shrugs and then looks up at Lehasti, "So, I guess that means you're next, hmm? Be careful."

When it comes time for him to climb down, he tucks the sunrod into his belt and takes his time of it. Traversing a rope down a long shaft is new territory for him. Upon reaching the bottom, he carefully maneuvers from the rope to whomever is holding the ladder to climb down. He wipes off the small bit of sweat from his brow at the effort and slowly rotates in place with the sunrod pushed out in front of him. "Fascinating. So, the images on the door indicate some sort of warrior, would be my guess? Whether that's a picture of the one entombed here or indicative of a guardian remains to be seen, however."

Spoiler: rolls

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Taking 10 on the Climb checks for an automatic 11.
When it comes time to transition from rope to ladder, here's the Acrobatics roll: (1d20+4)[24]

He kneels down by the body. "Well, that's a bit grisly. Looks like the first trap of the tomb did its job," he says quietly with a meaningful glance at the shaft above him. He looks back over at Grekka, "Have you found anything down here or had a chance to look?"

[Gwynfrid]

Calathon climbs down the rope, putting one feet after the other on the wall very deliberately. At the bottom, Grekka braces herself to receive his weight on the folding ladder, but her position is slightly out of alignment, causing the ladder to slide away when Calathon sets foot on the top.

The scarred elf, however, was ready for it, and nimbly shoves himself away from the wall to land a perfect jump.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Looking down at the rope Vershab says, "I am going to drop a couple of items down the shaft - a folding pole, crowbar, and all five of my torches. Here they come!" A moment later he drops the items down the shaft, aiming for an open spot away from the other PCs. He then calls down, saying, "I am going to try and climb down, now. This is not my forte, so please be ready to catch me!"

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Dropping the items and leaving my backpack up top gets me below 30 pounds of weight. From there with a -1 on my Climb checks I should be able to get down by Taking 10. If I need rolls, here they are:

Climb (1d20-1)[17], (1d20-1)[16], (1d20-1)[15], (1d20-1)[7], (1d20-1)[10], (1d20-1)[0]

Acrobatics (1d20+1)[6] to avoid falling damage if necessary

[Gwynfrid]

Grekka and Calathon hasten to get away from the path of the falling equipment. With a great clang, Vershab's crowbar lands on the stone floor, leaving a sizeable chink. It's slightly bent as a result, but still serviceable. The folding pole doesn't fare so well, as its locking mechanism breaks in the fall, leaving it unusable.

Vershab leaves his pack in the room above, and cautiously descends. Unfortunately, his transition to the ladder doesn't happen smoothly enough, and once again Grekka is unable to keep the ladder straight. The arcanist lands heavily on his back. He gets up, dusting himself with a groan.

Spoiler

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Vershab takes (1d6)[2] damage.

The torches could be damaged in the fall, but they're still usable anyway.

[DarkOne-Rob]

"Ouch," grumbles Vershab as he stands up and looks at the door. "Is it trapped?"

[JWallyR]

Spoiler: Checks

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Acrobatics to negate 10 feet of fall damage: (1d20-3)[6] <--- this is assuming the thing with Grekka didn't work (so I'm hoping it did)
Climb: take 10 for 10? otherwise (1d20)[15]

P.S. Please let me know how well Lehasti made it down the shaft so I can write her reaction appropriately. Thanks!

After uttering a silent prayer to Sarenrae, Lehasti methodically makes her way down the ladder, weapons strapped to her back behind the scales of her mail. After looking down at Grekka's planted stance, the tanned woman's eyes close once more, and she lowers herself onto the folding ladder. Finding it amazingly steady, she climbs down it (and the half-orc woman holding it) and takes 3 short steps before lowering herself to both knees and lifting her palms in a wordless prayer of thanks. Afterward, she nods appreciatively at Cal's uncharacteristically graceful dismount and winces at Vershab's perfectly characteristically clumsy fall, moving immediately to help the man to his feet. That looked like it might leave a bruise, but not much more than that. I'll keep my eye on you, friend. She winks encouragingly at the scholarly fellow.

[CleverDragon]

Calathon helps his god-son to his feet then shrugs at his question. "Haven't looked yet. Let's find out, shall we?" He kneels down at the base of the door and inspects along the seams around the outside of the door, following the seam with the sunrod. Then he turns his attention to the middle seam of the double doors and finally back to the floor itself, looking for some indication of a locking mechanism (if present) as well as any trap mechanism.

Spoiler: Perception roll

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Perception check: (1d20+8)[22]

[Gwynfrid]

This time, Grekka gets the hang of it, and despite Lehasti being by far the heaviest of her three charges, she keeps the ladder steady without any difficulty. Lehasti makes it safely to the underground room.

The four friends are now truly inside the tomb, far below the surface. What little noise from the city could be heard when they where standing in front of Akhentepi's tomb is now muffled to the point of inaudibility. The silence inside Akhentepi's last home is deep, oppressive even. The forbidding stone walls, the already diminsihing light of the sunrod, and the stale air only reinforce that impression.

During the time it took Lehasti to climb down, Calathon examined the door thoroughly, and is satisfied as to he absence of traps. The stone doors are heavy, but not locked, and after a couple of hard pushes from the team's strongwomen, they open, revealing a ten-foot-wide corridor, its walls covered in bas-relief carvings of great battles. Armies with spears and shields clash at the direction of generals, while other leaders direct troops from chariots that are ruthlessly overrunning their enemies. Engraved stone double doors stand at the far end of the hallway, some thirty feet in front of the alchemist.

Spoiler

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I'll need a marching order. I'll be assuming the single source of light is the sunrod (its light isn't really diminishing, by the way, this was just for atmosphere; the sunrod is good for several more hours.)

[CleverDragon]

At the sight of the decorated hallway, Cal lets out a low whistle. He speaks softly, almost more to himself, "Is this a specific battle? Or just a reflection of the life of the one buried here? Hmmm..." He looks back at his compatriots and has an eager smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to check out the hallway. I'll go first," he says almost excitedly and without a trace of trepidation, his lisp causing the word 'first' to come out more like firtht.

He cautiously steps forward, dividing his attention between the walls and the floor, looking for any potential defenses or hidden entries or things of note in general.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Perception: (1d20+8)[19]
Knowledge - History (for the mural): (1d20+9)[10]

If there are any writings in Ancient Osiriani, he'll also make notes of those as both he and Vershab speak it.

In regards to the marching order, as the "trap guy" I'd assume I'm going first unless you want otherwise. Plus, I'm envisioning Calathon to be enthusiastic almost to the point of reckless simply due to ignorance and inexperience. Hence my comment about "without trepidation" - he doesn't know any better in tombs like this or adventuring in general. He's simply wrapped up in the whole "OMG! I'm in a tomb with lots of history! SQUEEE!!" thing.